Rules of Engagement
by ThisBookBelongsTo
Summary: Spock is attracted to Kirk but doesn't know what to do. A guide he finds from the 21st century gives him some tips. There will be a happy ending, I promise!
1. Preface

Rules of Engagement

Preface

Acknowledgements: I do not own Star Trek (obviously) and nor do I own the Wikihow article I intend to base this on. The plot is mine, though, so I hope you enjoy it!

Spock opened his eyes, resigning himself to another night without meditation. Recently he had been unable to achieve the proper calmness of mind required to clear his thoughts from throughout the day, and it was taking its toll. He found himself in need of longer sleep periods, but incapable of closing his mind down sufficiently in order to do so.

There was, he knew, a perfectly reasonable explanation for it all. Well, perhaps not reasonable; Spock knew that he should be able to control such emotional responses as he had been experiencing. But once one knew the cause, his behaviour became understandable. So perhaps it was reasonable after all...

Spock shook the circular argument from his mind. He had, as he saw it, two options: he could address the issue, or he could ignore it. As a Vulcan, he recognised that there was no logic in putting off a decision. To act or not to act, that was the question. Whether it was nobler in the mind... With difficulty, Spock pulled himself together. This kind of daydreaming was so very... human. He would do well to suppress it.

Initially Spock had favoured option B – ignore it. But as yet another failed attempt at meditation had just convinced him, it was clearly not going to work. That left option A – address the issue. The problem was, he had no idea how.

Admitting to his feelings would probably be a good start. Spock took a deep breath the fortify himself, and breathed softly, "I am... experiencing strong..." He paused. "...strong feelings of attraction, bordering on..." This was more difficult than he had ever anticipated. "Infatuation... for my friend."

Spock knew he was cheating by not saying the name, but as he only had one confirmed friend anyway, he did not think that it mattered too much.

Now all he had to do was act on it. Spock swallowed nervously, allowing the outward display of emotion in the privacy of his own quarters. But how to go about it? Were his captain also Vulcan, Spock would have no difficulty in simply stating the matter to him outright. As a human, however, he was aware that there were degrees of subtlety to the art of attracting a potential mate beyond anything in Vulcan society.

Entering his search terms into the database after just a moment's hesitation, Spock opened the first result that appeared. It was an old document, from Earth's 21st century, but he supposed that the basic requirements would have remained essentially constant, so he read on. The article was entitled 'How to Flirt'. He found it ironic how straight to the point it was, given the complexity of the matter it sought to address.

_Flirting is, at its most basic, a way to get to know people you might be interested in dating. It might seem nerve-wracking to start flirting and put yourself out there, but fear not – it's normal to be nervous around someone you really like, and there are ways to seem confident and pull off a successful flirtation._

Heartened, Spock scanned the page hungrily, his eyes devouring every morsel of information and committing it to his eidetic memory for him to refer back to when a suitable situation arose. When he eventually finished reading some time later, he cleared his search history and checked meticulously for any trace of his reading material. Satisfied that no-one would know what he had been doing, Spock returned to his bed and drifted into a fitful sleep. In the morning, he would enact his plan to capture a certain man's attention.

A/N: Sorry the chapter is so short, but the style of this story lends itself better to being written in brief chunks. I will try to update often to make up for it! What do you think? Please let me know how this can be improved, or what you liked... And if you wrote the Wikihow article, please don't sue me! Think of it as free publicity...


	2. Chapter 1

Rules of Engagement

Chapter One

Acknowledgements: I do not own Star Trek (obviously) and nor do I own the Wikihow article I intend to base this on. The plot is mine, though, so I hope you enjoy it!

_Make eye contact._ The words floated into Spock's mind as he scanned through a set of routine data at his station. With his back to the captain, this would be difficult to achieve. However, turning around to face him without a legitimate reason to do so would be suspicious and out of character. Spock suppressed a shudder at the thought. No, he would have to bide his time and be subtle about it when the time came to act.

"Status report, Mr. Spock?" called a familiar voice from across the bridge. It was the voice that haunted him dreams – which were occurring with a greater frequency with every passing week. If Spock was not mistaken – which he rarely was where the behaviour of his captain was concerned – the voice currently carried significant undercurrents of boredom.

Snapping back to the present, Spock realised that he had not yet answered. A slight emerald flush stole across his cheeks, and he was suddenly glad that his station faced away from the centre of the bridge. "All functions normal and operational, captain," he announced levelly, keeping his head turned carefully away. At this rate, he would never achieve eye contact! There must be another way...

Spock heard Kirk's dismayed sigh as the report revealed nothing to alleviate the boredom of travelling for three days in chartered, uneventful space, and an idea occurred to him. Turning slowly in his chair, he examined the captain thoughtfully before speaking. "Captain, if you are not otherwise engaged I would appreciate a moment of your time to speak with you?" He half-rose to his feet, indicating his desire to talk elsewhere. Kirk leapt from his chair with an eagerness that was almost obscene, flashing Spock a grateful smile as he headed for the turbolift. "Certainly, Mr. Spock. Sulu, you have the conn.," he added as an afterthought.

"Officer's rec room, or do you require privacy?" he asked Spock once the lift was in motion. Spock quashed the desire to insist upon being alone with his captain; he did not trust himself to that extent at the moment. "The rec room will be sufficient, captain," Spock said instead. He had no idea what he was going to say to Kirk once they got there, but somewhere in his mind he entertained the vague notion that his friend would be grateful to him for breaking the monotony of the shift.

He decided to allow a moment of emotional lapse. After all, he could not accomplish his ultimate aim if he remained perfectly cold and distant from his captain, and it would be a small, controlled outburst... Spock stopped trying to convince himself with reason. Emotions do not conform to logic, after all. They stepped into the room to find it sparsely populated, only a few ensigns not on duty in the corner, talking quietly amongst themselves. The chatter ceased a moment when the two commanding officers walked in, but soon resumed.

"Well, Mr. Spock?" asked Kirk casually, his voice quiet so as not to disrupt the group across the room again. "Captain?" Spock was momentarily thrown off-balance by the proximity of his friend, and his gentle tone. "What did you need to speak to me about?" Spock was about to make an excuse and present a series of figures and facts before making his escape, but he did not. He had resolved to do this, and he must go through with it. "I... had noticed your discomfort on the bridge," he began tentatively. Kirk's brow furrowed slightly but he did not comment. Encouraged, Spock continued, "I know that humans – yourself in particular – seem to require activity in order to remain focused and interested in a task."

The captain looked confused, but his expression cleared as he looked up at Spock in what was now amazement. "You thought I was bored?" he asked, hazel eyes laughing. "Yes, captain." Spock replied, more than a little uncomfortable. Maybe he had been wrong about this...

"Then it seems I owe you my thanks," his friend smiled warmly. Kirk stepped marginally closer to the half-Vulcan. "I love what we do, don't get me wrong," he added hastily, "but sometimes it just feels like we aren't accomplishing anything important, you know?"

Spock assumed this was a rhetorical question and waited for the captain to continue. The pause lengthened and it became evident that he would not, so Spock asked nervously, "I was... correct in my judgement of your state of boredom?" He had to stop himself from biting his lip, something his father had trained out of him at an early age. Kirk grinned. "Oh, God yes! Thanks for rescuing me," he reiterated, as if uncertain whether Spock believed him or not.

"You are more than welcome, captain," Spock responded, his voice unintentionally soft as he spoke. "However, I would suggest that only a brief time period can pass before suspicion is aroused as to what has delayed us." Kirk sighed, but nodded his agreement. As they stepped back into the turbolift, Spock remembered his resolution, and a treacherous sigh escaped his lips. His friend looked up at him questioningly, and Spock detected elements of concern and gratitude in his almost golden eyes. "Alright?" he asked as the lift set in motion. Spock swallowed as he realised they had not broken eye contact for 36.27 seconds, and counting.

"Perfectly, thank you captain," he managed, a moment before the doors opened and they resumed their stations. Spock glanced across at Kirk, and was satisfied to note that he looked far more content than he previously had. Turning back to his work, he mentally ticked off his first objective.


	3. Chapter 2

Rules of Engagement

Chapter Two

Acknowledgements: I do not own Star Trek (obviously) and nor do I own the Wikihow article I intend to base this on. The plot is mine, though, so I hope you enjoy it!

_Smile_. It would be a difficult on, certainly. Spock was, first and foremost, a Vulcan. He frowned as the thought crossed his mind. No, that wasn't exactly true anymore. He was, first and foremost, Chief Science Officer and First Officer of the Enterprise? No, that didn't feel right either. Spock mentally berated himself for using his emotional response to divine his exact standing on the matter, but he was curious, so continued anyway. Perhaps it was a sign of just how compromised he was becoming.

He was... Jim's friend. Yes. That sounded just right. Spock was reminded of a story, told to human children for centuries and relayed to him one evening following a game of chess by the friend in question. The captain was like... the third bed. He wished to snuggle close into him and stay there, warm and safe and... No. Vulcans most unequivocally do not snuggle. It is unbecoming and lacks any sense of propriety. Spock severed the mental image from his mind, brutally ignoring the acute sense of loss his actions caused to erupt.

The article was clear, however, that there was more than one way in which to smile. A different emotion would be conveyed with each form of expression, therefore it would be essential to utilise the correct one. Scanning over the document in his quarters to be absolutely certain of his next course of action, Spock's eyes stuttered to a halt at the end of one particular piece of information. _...slow, languid smiles are generally considered sexy._

Was that how he wanted the captain to see him? His human heart fluttered erratically, but he quelled the response. Logically, if he intended his activities to result in a romantic involvement with his friend then this would be imperative at some point. However, Spock felt almost certain that he did not wish to give this impression right away.

Would he even be able to control how he smiled, Spock wondered? He did so very seldom, and so had virtually no practice in it. Unlike Jim, who smiled all of the time. How did the captain smile? Maybe he could take note of how his friend did it, and imitate the action. Content with his almost scientific plan, Spock glanced at the chronometer.

With a start, he realised that his shift had begun 36 seconds ago. How had he become so distracted? Spock knew that he had never been so much as a nanosecond late before. Surely someone would have noticed... He felt panic begin to rise inside of him, a terrible, paralysing fear of being discovered. It was utterly irrational, and moments later he had it firmly under control within his mind. The ease with which the emotion had seized him, however, was quite disturbing.

There was a buzz at his door, and Spock called his visitor to enter, taking a moment first to compose himself properly. The captain stepped into his room, barely flinching at the higher temperature.

"Spock?" he asked, his brow creased slightly. "Is everything... alright?" Spock bowed his head, ashamed. "I am sorry for the delay, captain. I can assure you that I was about to head to the bridge when you entered, and it will not be repeated..." He stopped as he saw his friend's expression clear into one of relief. How... fascinating.

"Good, good. I didn't come here to reprimand you, Spock," Kirk assured him smilingly. Spock took note of the dazzling beam, committing to memory the exact width and proportion of teeth showing. So absorbed in memorising that smile was he that he barely registered the fact that the captain had abandoned his customary honorific 'Mr.' in his concern. It was an observation that made him want to... smile. And why not? It was, after all, his next objective, was it not?

Deciding that there was a very small – 2.17% – chance that an equally suitable opportunity would arise in the near future, Spock acted before his fear could once more dissuade him. "Thank you for your... concern, captain," he said tentatively. He allowed the corners of his lips to do as they had wanted to since the captain arrived, and curve up slightly at the corners, his eyes twinkling beneath a slightly less austere brow than usual.

Kirk grinned at his efforts. He was overjoyed that Spock felt comfortable enough around him to let down his guard to such an extent. "Any time, Spock," he managed to say through the smile that felt as though it might split his face in two if it grew another millimetre. "Now, shall we...?"

Spock nodded his assent, and they departed his quarters in warm, companionable silence.


	4. Chapter 3

Rules of Engagement

Chapter Three

Acknowledgements: I do not own Star Trek (obviously) and nor do I own the Wikihow article I intend to base this on. The plot is mine, though, so I hope you enjoy it!

_Start talking_. How very... vague. Spock considered the rest of the paragraph. _You don't have to commit to a full conversation – acknowledging him in passing as you walk by can be sufficient_. Of course, he knew that this advice was intended originally as a means of introduction, but he considered it well suited to his needs. It wasn't as if he made a habit of engaging the captain in casual – or any other kind of – conversation once off the bridge, after all.

Spock was acutely aware of his friend's daily routine, having spent weeks subconsciously reconfiguring his own so that they would coincide. Once he had realised what he had been doing, however, Spock also knew that to revert to his original schedule would be tantamount to a rejection of Kirk's companionship, which he was unwilling to risk.

He therefore knew that if he were to exit his quarters in precisely 3.40 minutes, and walk at his regular pace toward the turbolift, he would be 99.63% likely to end up sharing his ride to alpha shift with the captain. Perfect... and terrifying. Even a few moments spent in the presence of his friend were enough to make the Vulcan in him begin to give way to his human side, these days, and the very idea made him shudder inside. The loss of control it would entail was... undesirable, to say the least.

However, Spock decided that he was willing to take a chance on his willpower this time. He had meditated for an extra 2 hours the night before in preparation, letting his paperwork fall... not behind, but less ahead than was usual for him. It was not something he was willing to see go to waste, and especially not because of an emotional response.

His mind made up, Spock strode with deliberately measured steps down the corridor. Five... six... seven... and... Spock realised he was holding his breath, and immediately returned his lungs to their normal rate of operation. Two steps later, his efforts were thoroughly undone, as his friends stepped from his cabin and into Spock's not-deliberately-orchestrated-in-the-slightest path. Pulling back almost immediately, Kirk bent and returned the fallen datapad to Spock's hands. "Sorry," he smiled apologetically. "Guess I'm running a little late this morning."

"On the contrary, captain," Spock replied. His voice sounded strained to his own ears, but Kirk gave no indication of having noticed. "You are exactly on time, according to my approximations." This, Spock noted grimly, was not how he had intended to engage in what he believed was termed 'small talk' with his friend.

"Is there any particular reason for your assumption of lateness?" he asked after a moment of walking in silence. His companion looked up at him, startled from his thoughts by the unexpected sound. "No-" he began to reply, but a single raised eyebrow stopped his response in its tracks. "Actually, Spock, to be perfectly honest, I didn't sleep well last night," he admitted, looking down at the floor in what Spock could only identify as embarrassment.

Sensing an opportunity to show friendship for Kirk, Spock spoke with caution, unsure how his concern would be received. "Are you... quite well, captain? Perhaps you should visit Dr. McCoy if you are experiencing a recurring difficulty sleeping," he offered softly.

The captain met his eyes with a tired grin at that, and Spock observed shallow lilac shadows encircling their hazel depths. "I'll be fine," Kirk assured his friend, "I just need to catch up on some rest. I don't know about you, but these departmental reviews are putting me through hell. I don't seem to have any spare time any more," he sighed. Spock nodded his understanding, unsure how to proceed in the conversation. He decided that a candid approach had served well before, and might be worth another try.

"I would like to offer my assistance in completing the task," he offered quietly – so quietly, in fact, that for a moment the captain wasn't sure if he had really spoken at all. But the he went on, "With my own reports completed, I would like to help. Perhaps once we have finished you would be amenable to a game of chess..." Spock stopped, unsure whether he had overstepped his mark. Kirk was frowning slightly, a confused expression about his face. "You would do that?" he asked simply, and Spock nodded. He had nothing else to say.

But his friend did. "Spock, I don't tell you often enough how lucky I am to have you as my First Officer," he smiled gently. "This is way above and beyond what is expected of you, you know." The smile remained, but it seemed to Spock that the captain was braced, as if for a blow. Did he expect Spock to rescind his offer, given the opportunity?

"Captain, I wish to extend my offer as... a friend," Spock clarified, hiding his nerves with some difficulty beneath his customary Vulcan calm. "I was under the impression that human friendship entailed offering assistance in a time of need," he added uncertainly. Kirk's near-blinding grin in by way of response allayed his fears, however.

"In that case, Spock, I'd be honoured to accept your offer," his friend said, an unidentifiable emotion causing his eyes to shine brilliantly in the stark white lighting of the corridor. "Thank you," he murmured, walking alongside the relieved half-Vulcan with a lingering smile on his face. "But, if you're offering as a _friend_," he emphasised the word happily, "then can't you call me Jim?" Spock's breath caught in his throat, and his friend was forced to wait a tense moment before he was able to formulate a response. "It would be... my pleasure," he accepted, resisting the urge to smile in kind. "Jim."

They summoned the turbolift in silence, each contemplating the unexpected turn of events in his own reeling mind. Spock was content; the morning was off to a better start than he could possibly have imagined.


	5. Chapter 4

Rules of Engagement

Chapter Four

Jim was on shore leave. Spock sat in his quarters, toying with the idea of reading the dissertation he had received earlier in the day, on preliminary research into a form known as-yet only as 'red matter'. It apparently showed much potential for exploitation. Somehow, the prospect did not entice him as it normally would.

Sitting at his comm. terminal, Spock began a new message.

**To: Kirk, Captain J.T.**

**Subject: An article of interest**

Spock paused a moment, uncertain how to begin. The captain had been urging him to adopt a more formal tone of address during their off-duty time, of late, but he was reluctant to abandon the comforting familiarity he gleaned from his customary formality. However, to progress toward his objective, he was aware that he would have to acquiesce.

Knowing it intellectually was a world away from putting it into practice, though, so it was with some trepidation that Spock began his message.

**Message:**

**Jim,**

**Attached is an article from the Vulcan Science Academy, transmitted to me by my mother.**

He wondered if such a surplus of detail was entirely necessary, but he had observed the custom in human communications of all sorts, so Spock continued in the same vein. Vaguely he wondered if the captain would even appreciate his shore leave being interrupted, just because his First Officer was incapable of restraining his emotional attachment for another week. Said emotional attachment quickly overruled any consideration to the contrary, however.

**I had thought that you might find the contents to be of interest, so have sent you this copy to view at your convenience. Do not feel obliged to read it.**

Re-reading what he had typed, Spock shook his head minutely.

**Please do not feel that you must dedicate your shore leave to the matter; however, it is my hope that you will find it of some interest.**

A great improvement; the revision was less formal by far. Spock replaced the concluding statement and signed off, with a simple 'Spock', before sending the message. There was a tightness in his chest that he could not explain as he sat back and stared, unseeing, at the computer terminal. A thousand and one concerns flitted through his mind in the moment after the message departed his comm., though logically he knew there was nothing to be done about it now except to read the red matter article. After all, he would require a thorough knowledge of the subject matter if the captain did choose to read the article. Doubtless there would be many, many questions for him to answer upon Kirk's return to the ship.

Spock seated himself cross-legged upon the floor, preparing to clear his mind of the suddenly abundant emotions he was experiencing. He took only one breath, however, before the comm. terminal blinked to alert him of an incoming call.

Rising to his feet in one fluid motion, Spock pressed to receive the communication. One eyebrow elevated in astonishment as the face of his friend filled the screen, tanned and smiling. Spock experienced a confusing mixture of contentment and... loneliness. The captain was obviously happy – and relaxing – which was precisely what he needed after the past 3.4 months. However, that he was doing so _without Spock_ filled the half-Vulcan with a feeling of disappointment, which he quickly dispelled. Of course the captain was able to enjoy himself in the company of others. The egotism which seemed to have him in its grasp was... quite alarming.

Turning his attention back to the viewscreen, Spock focused on what his friend was saying.

"...just got your article, Spock!" Jim grinned at him. In the background was visible a sparsely furnished beach residence, the sound of waves and a slight heat-haze over distant objects affirming this impression. "Thanks, it looks... fascinating." Both smiled slightly at his use of the word. "I've only glanced over it," he admitted with an embarrassed laugh, "but when I get back we have got to talk it over – have you read it?" Spock shook his head briefly, wishing that he had at least scanned the document before forwarding it to his friend. "Oh, you'll _love_ it!" enthused Kirk. "Right up your street," he added with a mischievous grin, knowing Spock's secret affection for archaic Earth expressions.

A faint call from off-screen caused Kirk to turn slightly to the sound and raise a hand. "One minute!" he shouted back, before returning his attention to Spock. "Bones," he explained in response to the eyebrow Spock hadn't been aware was raised in question until that point. "Wish you would've come with us," he sighed suddenly. Spock thought the captain sounded a little wistful, but he could easily have been imposing the emotion according to his own desires, so said nothing. "It's almost as hot as Vulcan," he added, and this time Spock was certain of the enticement in his tone.

"Are... you still endeavouring to convince me to join you, captain?" Spock interjected, and Kirk cast his eyes downward to avoid his friend's perceptive gaze as he replied. "Sorry," he murmured, abashed. "I guess I should know better, right?" he added, looking up again with a twinkle in his eyes that Spock was incapable of denying anything.

The captain had expended an excessive amount of energy in attempting to sway Spock's customary assertion that he did not require shore leave, as he claimed that it was 'Not necessary in my case, Captain. On my planet, to rest is to rest. To cease using energy. To me...'

"...it is quite illogical to... run up and down on green grass using energy instead of saving it." Kirk's grin grew in size, a feat Spock had considered impossible. "No grass here, Mr. Spock," he pointed out triumphantly, "Only sun, sand and good friends. There's someone missing, though..." he trailed off pointedly, eyes meeting Spock's uncertain gaze with unblinking determination.

Something inside of Spock snapped, and he knew that the battle was lost. "In your opinion, your shore leave would be improved by my presence?" he clarified, wanting to be absolutely certain that he wasn't reading something into the situation that simple was not there. He had considered the captain's requests to accompany them on their break to have been made as a common courtesy, but something in Kirk's eyes told him otherwise.

"Of course!" he replied, hope shining from his whole golden face. "It just isn't the same without all of us here," he said softly. His friend knew that Spock had difficulty accepting the feelings of friendship growing within him, so offered his reassurance with an open, honest stance. "We – I – miss you, Spock," he murmured shyly.

"Then I will beam down in approximately 30 minutes, captain," Spock replied, with a smoothly disguised sigh of contentment.

"Approximately?" Kirk teased gently, radiating unmasked delight from every pore. "Are you quite alright, Mr. Spock?"

"Perfectly, Jim," he responded, allowing his lips to curve up in a rare, genuine smile. The occasion justified such flagrant emotionalism, he reassured himself as he terminated the comm. link.


	6. Chapter 5

Rules of Engagement

Chapter Five

Spock blinked once as the gold haze of the transporter beam left fading spots in his vision. Looking around him, he noted that the beach was almost overflowing with all kinds of people, from every planet he had visited and a few – 13, to be precise – besides. The sand shifted beneath his feet as Spock turned, searching for a familiar face.

"Spock!"

It was the only warning he had before a spray of black sand announced his captain's arrival. A warm arm clapped around his shoulders startled him, causing Kirk to chuckle apologetically. "Sorry," he offered with a bright smile. "But, isn't this place _great_? Sun, sand and sea," he said happily.

"I still don't know how you managed to convince ol' pointy ears to take a whole week off..." The familiar grumbling signalled McCoy's approach. "Hey," he added rather unnecessarily, smiling slightly in spite of himself. Standing between his two friends, Spock began to feel that perhaps this... _holiday_ wouldn't be as abhorrent as he had anticipated. After all, he was acutely aware of Kirk's arm still heavy on his tingling shoulder...

"Drink?" suggested Kirk, gesturing to a bar across the beach. Spock managed to suppress any outward sign of his horror at the thought of such close proximity to so many people. Being a touch-telepath meant that the inevitable skin-on-skin contact would be almost unbearable. The half-Vulcan was certain that he had not responded outwardly to the suggestion, but Kirk's brow scrunched up suddenly. "No," he decided, "Spock, you probably wouldn't enjoy that, right?" Without waiting for a reply, he continued, "We'll have to go back to the house, then."

With a scowling McCoy in tow, Kirk reclaimed his arm and set off in the direction of their residence. There were 2.47 metres between the two friends and the doctor before he spoke, flashing a glance at Spock as they walked. "Thanks for coming down with m- us," he smiled, and Spock almost smiled back, in his unguarded mood caused by the warmth of such a genuine, heartfelt expression. "It really wasn't the same without you." Another smile, this time with an undercurrent of... nerves? What did Kirk have to be afraid of? Spock resolved to meditate on the matter later.

"I am grateful for the opportunity to spend off-duty time with... friends," Spock replied honestly. The word stuck in his throat slightly, and it felt strange to let it pass his lips. He had never had anyone to call 'friend' before, but he was glad he had when it earned him another dazzling grin.

Seated around the bar in their temporary abode, Kirk excitedly began to make plans with McCoy about how they should spend their precious week. Spock watched proceedings with a warm feeling of satisfaction, content to simply look on, until he became aware that Kirk's unrelenting torrent of words had turned in his direction.

"What do you think, Spock? Sound okay? I don't know what Vulcan's usually do to wind down... Oh! But they don't, do they?" his friend looked pleased with himself for having remembered, continuing in a smug tone, "It is quite illogical to use energy instead of saving it," he paraphrased, shooting Spock a sideways wink. McCoy laughed at Kirk's impression of their friend, and Spock felt his cheeks begin to burn green.

"Captain," he began, only to be silenced by a raised hand.

"Jim!" admonished Kirk, mock-sternly. "We are on shore leave, Mr. Spock, and I'd thank you to address me as such." The half-Vulcan overlooked his hypocrisy indulgently, inclining his head in acquiescence. "Very well, Jim. I am indifferent as to the activities we partake of over the course of this excursion. I am content simply to... relax," another neglected term, "in good company." _In your company_, he amended, in the privacy of his own head.

"Oh! Oh, Spock," breathed Kirk happily.

"Jim, something has happened to our Spock," McCoy joked with a grin, "This one's got _emotions_." He said the word just as Spock customarily did, with a grimace of distain in his tone that never failed to amuse the two humans. The two friends blinked away from each other's faces, where they had ended up unwittingly gazing. Apparently having forgotten the presence of the doctor, Kirk's cheeks were crimson as he turned back to his friend with an easy smile. "Bones!" he laughed. To Spock's ears, it sounded forced.

Seeming to sense the sudden tension, McCoy excused himself awkwardly. "I'm just gonna... yeah," he mumbled lamely. "We're all outta..." he backed out of the kitchen with a knowing smirk in Kirk's direction that earned him a scathing glare in return.

"Doctor McCoy was... uncomfortable?" queried Spock in confusion. He noticed that Kirk had no problem with his use of their friend's professional title with no little satisfaction. "Hmm? Oh, no, he's just gone to... get something," replied Kirk, somewhat distractedly.

Then he snapped into focus, turning to face his friend. "Spock," he blurted out suddenly, "I need to talk to you." Spock felt like he had swallowed a branding iron, and illogical though the metaphor undoubtedly was, he could not find a better way to describe the burning, molten feeling in the pit of his stomach as Kirk faced him... anxiously? Why was he...

Kirk stepped right up to him, so that they were almost touching. Spock forced himself to breathe. He shivered infinitesimally as the hot exhalation of air grazed the tip of one emerald-flushed ear. "There's... something you should know."


	7. Chapter 6

Rules of Engagement

Chapter Six

A/N: Sorry this took so long, but... here it is! I was torn between posting this in separate parts or all in one, but I couldn't bear to wait and leave another cliffhanger... You're welcome ;-)

Anyway, please enjoy! Next chapter up in short order, with any luck...

_Kirk stepped right up to him, so that they were almost touching. Spock forced himself to breathe. He shivered infinitesimally as the hot exhalation of air grazed the tip of one emerald-flushed ear. "There's... something you should know."_

Spock waited with cautiously bated breath. How could his friend mean anything else, anything but...? And yet, he was loathe to surrender, even now that there would soon be no secrets between them ever again, to his emotions. There was still a 16.84% chance that he was wrong. 16.84%. It was too great a risk.

Still, Kirk did not speak. His golden lashes sank down heavily, his head nodding a little as the tension visibly left his muscles. Eyes firmly closed, his lips finally moved, delivering _that voice_ as nectar to Spock's awaiting ears. "Spock..."

"Spock, I... Wow, this is even harder than I imagined! Oh, God, I just said that aloud... Man, this is _not _how it was supposed to go! I mean," he mumbled to himself in obvious frustration, "if they all managed it after just one night..." A slight smirk accompanied this last, though it was warped slightly by his all-pervading nerves.

"Jimmy?" A breathless-sounding voice called to him, seeming an age away across the emotional chasm that separated him and Spock from the rest of reality. Slowly, Kirk dragged himself to the surface of his consciousness. He opened his eyes, still not daring to look at Spock. "Excuse me?" he replied uncertainly. He knew no women on this planet, yet the voice was unmistakeably female. "Do I know you?"

He looked to Spock then, trying desperately to convey his feelings – not that he really knew what they were himself, exactly – without risking the intruder overhearing his long-nurtured words. Spock's façade of calmness remained unmoved; perhaps he had not seen. Or perhaps he simply did not care for what he read in his friend's eyes, unguarded as they were at long last... A tall, sinuous frame seemed to glide into the room, her delicate curvature parading itself with less shame than an Orion dancer as she undulated – there really was no other word for the way she walked – across to where Kirk was frozen, dumbfounded. "Wha..." he managed to splutter, the power of speech deserting him in his disbelief. Who _was _this – and, what did she want of him and Spock?

The thought of his friend drew Kirk's mind into sharp focus, and he blinked his gaze free of the brazen figure now only feet away, and advancing at a most alarming rate. But something more important now occupied his attention, as he stared, unseeing, out of the open door. Spock was gone.

Spock stood at the shore, now doused in the waning light of a violet sun. He did not feel the coolness of night as it settled about his achingly stiff shoulders, nor the surf that lapped almost timidly at his bared feet.

He felt... No matter what the multitude of emotions were _called_; it was proof enough for Spock of his own folly simply that he felt them at all. He recalled the look in his friend's eyes, taking refuge in the world of unrealities behind his closed lids. So much emotion raged in the golden depths, more than he had ever imagined possible... but what did it _mean_? Frustration arose – not for the first time, especially not since meeting his human companions – within him at the disciplines so thoroughly instilled in him during his childhood on Vulcan. Also not for the first time, he felt gratitude to his mother, for her courage in remaining so human in a world so unnatural to her, and for trying to share her humanity with him, in spite of his father's very vocal disapproval.

Memories swirled around his head, making him dizzy as if thinning the oxygen that his lungs could draw in. One image, of those tumultuous eyes, overwhelmed all else, however. Spock wished he knew what his friend had been about to say. He also wished, although not without a greatly concerted effort, that he was happy with the woman whose arrival had prompted his immediate departure.

It had been... logical, to leave. The word burned uncomfortably in his heart. Logic... It was so hollow, so utterly ridiculous in its pompous hypocrisy, without the glittering smile he had become accustomed to seeing when he made mention of it. That smile, which he could never again allow himself even to imagine, much less actually _believe_ was anything more than an outward sign of a companionship akin to that which his friend felt for any other member of the crew... Spock winced, rendered unable to suppress the response.

Clearly, though, his endeavour had been condemned from the moment it left his mental drawing board. He had simply been too blinkered by his... emotional investment in the outcome to see it.

He felt his shoulders shudder, saline droplets seeping from below his black lashes that merged with the coastal air on his lips. Spock sank to his knees, the advancing waves swallowing him into their ranks. Hunched over in to himself in the surf, his heart wept with his mind as the crushing weight of failure forced him to the ground. No longer could the buoyant hope he had so nurtured keep him afloat; now he was drowning in his fear and despair, black anger at his own naïveté grinding the lingering humanity in his struggling soul to dust and watching it drift away on the ocean breeze.

Kirk saw Spock's silhouette crumple as if fatally wounded, folding over and landing, somehow gracefully, in a heap of quivering Vulcan on the beach. Grey waves lapped at his form but he did not respond to the icy waters. His friend broke into a sprint, calling out his name with a sense of urgency gripping his heart the like of which he had not experienced since those final days on Tarsus IV.

"Spock!" Breathless, Kirk fell to his knees beside the trembling ball that he knew was Spock. "Oh," he breathed, hot, _human_ tears dropping onto the blue material that was pulled tight across his shuddering back and shoulders.

"Spock?" he called again, more gently this time. No response, save perhaps an increase in the intensity of the sobs emanating from his horribly exposed, vulnerable form. "I'm... I'm sorry, Spock," Kirk whispered hoarsely. "I know... that I hurt you, and I'm sorry for that. More sorry than anything." His voice gave way then, ending the sentence with a rattling gasp that caused Spock to look up.

He looked... like a man condemned. As a convict, upon receipt of his call to he gallows at dawn. He looked like that man as dawn arrived. Dismay flooded his friend as his eye was drawn to thick, wet trails down the angular cheeks that should never have known such sorrow, such pain... Kirk grasped his hands around Spock's shoulders, not caring in that moment of need whether the half-Vulcan could read him through the touch or not. It was too late for thinking of what ought not to be shared, at any rate.

"Jim..."

The ragged voice tore at him more than he could say, his tongue numbed by the freezing daggers that tore at his heart as the single syllable tumbled from Spock's emerald-stained lips, at once a benediction and a death sentence.

"Spock, I should never have said anything," he spat out bitterly. "I should have just kept my mouth shut. I'm... so... sorry," he offered between deep, gulping breaths, desperately hoping that his friend could at least accept his apology. "If... if you want to..." He didn't know what he wanted to say. _If you want to pretend that this never happened_? Impossible. _If you want to go back to being purely professional colleagues_? Kirk didn't think he could survive the rest of their mission without his half-Vulcan's friendship. If nothing else, Bones would have resorted to sticking him with so many hypos, he wouldn't wake up until they made port in three long years' time.

"If _I_ want?" Spock sounded confused, and so exposed with his manner entirely unguarded like this. Kirk hoped at once never to see his friend reduced to this condition ever again and to be allowed the privilege of seeing his inner soul forever more. He wanted to smile, cry and curl up into a ball and hide from the world all at once.

"Jim, I..." Unfurling himself to a more dignified posture, Spock sat cross-legged in the shallow sea water opposite his friend. He looked searchingly into his red-rimmed eyes before speaking again, his voice scratchy and filled with pain. "It is I who ought to apologise, for endeavouring to... secure your affections, in disregard of what you wanted. I am sorry. Are you... she..." he found himself stumbling over the cumbersome, leaden words that trickled with sluggish reluctance from his tongue. Opening eyes he had not been aware of squeezing shut, Spock forced himself to look back up into his friend's recriminating stare, his anger, his disgust, perhaps...

Kirk rocked back slightly, astounded. Convinced that it was just his mind, conjuring up words from Spock's deliciously elegant lips _yet again_, he placed a shaking hand on his friend's saturated knee. "Spock?" he asked, gently encouraging him to continue, conveying without words – as they always could – that he did not understand.

"You should not be here," murmured Spock instead, suddenly very interested in the motion of the sand grains under the caressing ripples of water that were now threatening to dampen the hem of his shirt. Stung, his friend nonetheless remained silent. Whatever Spock needed, he was resolved to deliver on it, even if it hurt him to do so. After the insensitive jerk he had just been, after all...

"I... must not... show..." Spock took a shuddering breath and met Kirk's eyes with a blazing look that made his friend shiver in simultaneous apprehension and delight.

"...my _emotions_."

The word seemed to raise a floodgate within the shivering half-Vulcan, and now the words began to flow in earnest, unchecked passion and sorrow cresting the outpouring flood in glorious evidence.

"I have spent that past 6.71 months in an attempt to obtain your exclusive affection. This I deemed to be a logical pursuit – a decision almost certainly caused by the blindness to reason and empirical evidence that my feelings had caused to stir within me. I conducted the appropriate research, and thus prepared, I approached you. Until 4 hours and 26 minutes ago, in the kitchen, I had believed that my actions were having the desired effect. I now understand that my unwelcome attentions must have caused you discomfort, for which I apologise. Evidently my aptitude at reading human 'body language', as you call it, is far below the level of my expectations." Spock hung his head in open shame. "I regret that I have hurt you, of all people, and I can only beg that you forgive me. I will, of course, remove myself to another vessel upon our arrival at Starbase 16 in 1.9 weeks."

Self-deprecation, a low estimation of his own inimitable capabilities, and a sadness that seemed to lurk perpetually below the calm surface of his Vulcan mask. All of these were familiar to Kirk, but one sentiment was anything but expected. And he was _definitely _interested in exploring it further.

"Let me see if I have this right," he ventured after a moment's pause. "You have spent the past 7 months-"

"-6.71-"

"-6.71 months _flirting with me_?" Kirk's heart fluttered like that of his teenage self when he had first enlisted with Starfleet, only magnified tenfold. One hundred fold. Maybe more, now he thought of it...

"You know, there are correct ways of responding to such advances as well," he mused, as if to himself but watching his friend's reaction out of the corner of his eye. He wasn't willing to reduce Spock to the quivering wreck he had been too short a time ago for _anything_.

"If the person being propositioned wishes to decline the person who has approached them," here Spock's shoulders tensed infinitesimally. Anyone who was not Kirk would not have noticed, much less understood the fear behind the gesture, "then they..."

James Kirk was not an unkind man, and entirely incapable of even teasing his half-Vulcan for a single moment if it brought him discomfort – and Spock was treating the sand grains to his most disconsolate expression again. Kirk stopped speaking abruptly, forcing his friend's eyes up and meeting the ebony gaze with his own. Leaning in, he traced the line of Spock's brow and cheekbone, running a trembling finger down the noble silhouette of his nose and ending just above his parted lips. He felt the warm rush of exhaled air tickle his fingers as the passed and shuddered slightly. His head swimming and his vision blurred with the blood that pounded around his skull, Kirk closed the minute gap between their mouths, joining their lips in a saltwater-flavoured embrace. A heartbeat later, Spock was kissing him back as if this was his last chance, as if he were dying.

Shaky and gasping for breath, they pulled apart with great reluctance. A small frown passed across Spock's brow and Kirk smoothed it away with a tender stroke of the thumb. "Jim," Spock sighed, letting his contentment resound in his tone, his posture, his heart beating hard enough to be heard back on the ship...

"I trust that this is, contrary to your statement, _not_ how one expresses a dislike for a prospective partner?" his voice was light, teasing. Almost every trace of the broken man he had been short lifetimes before had been washed away in the onslaught of Kirk's emotions, conveyed in their kiss. Almost. His hand still gripped tightly to his friend's bared forearm, his fingertips unconsciously pressing hard enough to bruise the sensitive flesh there. Clinging to the joy he had already felt slip from his heart once that evening.

Suddenly, Kirk knew what he should have said, back in the kitchen. Not with his eyes, but with sure, unmistakeable promises. "I have... loved you, Spock, since the day we met." He could see his friend's eyes widen at the raw words, but he let his captain speak. "I have wanted to hold you, kiss and caress you and shield you from this universe with my arms..." he sighed softly, agonisingly aware of the way the words stuck in his throat before leaping forth and leaving him so bare.

Spock's lips were on his before he had drawn breath. Delicate fingers fluttered at his temples and then...

This time, there truly _are_ no words.


End file.
